Blaine tapped the toe of his boots on the curb, and mildly cursing, bent to fasten the laces tighter.
Gazing up at Dalton Academy from his crouched position, he felt a chill as a shadow was cast over his back.
He uprighted himself, flustered to introduce himself to what appeared to be a faculty member he didn't recognize from his time as a student here.
The woman had tanned skin and a crop of bouncy bleach blonde hair cut short into a coiffed bob. She was grinning widely, and extending one manicured hand toward him. In the crook of her left elbow was a clipboard and an old fashioned smoking pipe; the kind you would see on the cover of old magazines or the more pretentious parts of Columbus. the lady didn't look like a hipster to Blaine. For one she was wearing a bright yellow sundress and white strappy sandals - minus the hat, the most unpretentious of get-ups.
"My name is April Rhodes, how do you do sir."
whitened teeth glinted at him and her southern drawl pierced the lazy autumnal afternoon like it belonged here and anywhere the woman fancied to alight her sandals, and Blaine found himself delighted.
"Hello." He cleared his throat, fussing with his messenger bag and thrusting an open palm toward her. He was nervous, it had to be said, for his first job out of college. Suddenly being thrust into the adult world was intimidating in a way Blaine felt he had to work hard to ignore.
The woman shook his hand a little firmly, rattling him and striding past him to gaze around at the front gates of the school.
"Well, I reckon my late husband would be proud of me. Me? a teacher? if my pops could see me now... had to pick me up for flashing. There's a tip for you, honey. If you havn't studied for a test, just flash 'em, and you get to go home, well if you ever get called to the principal's office you know what to do."
Blaine stood beside her, and they both stared uneasily at the front gates for a moment.
"Have we met before?"
April turned around to him and gave him a once over
"You bet. Still got that hooch I got you and your beau?"
"Ah" Blaine suddenly remembered a vague memory from Mckinley High a few years ago.
"To ease the pain of our nuptials," Blaine asked numbly.
April looked at him like he was crazy.
"I have no idea what I said. I was blind drunk myself. If I was so forward I do apologize... but uh... did it?"
Blaine watched her fiddle with the corners of her papers.
"No, not really?"
April gave him a look.
"Oh honey bear, I'm sorry."
"Not your fault." Blaine shrugged.
-
Having April teach alongside him at the school gave Blaine some much-needed respite; she was someone he knew that hadn't previously graded his papers.
Indeed some of the faculty seemed to take it upon themselves to offer him careers advise as if he were still their student. The old gym teacher had given him a lengthy lecture on how the arts were not a viable career choice and that Blaine's transfer to a public school had led him down the soft path. There was also the fact that Aprils brazen ineptitude and drunkenness distracted the other teachers from more of these daily incursions into his life. Those things and the free hooch she would slip into his desk drawer after practice.
He gingerly unscrewed the cap of the hipflask and sniffed its contents, blanching at the fumes.
He wouldn't call himself a day drinker, more like a 5:30pm drinker.
It was in this state of inebriation that Blaine stumbled from his and April's uber and found himself at Scandals on Cowboy Night.
"Wheeeeeeeeooooooo!" April tossed back a shot of whiskey with practiced relish and wobbled precariously on her bar stool.
"YOu -HIC- call that a stetson? I'mma sh0-show you how a REAL cow-hi-c- girl rides."
"Reverse Cowgirl by the way -hic-" April said in a loud stage-whisper to Blaine.
"Sure... uh, you d-do realized we're in a gay bar right?" Blaine grinned at her, sloshing whiskey all over the table.
"Sho m-e wheres the bisectualns?" April said, puffing dramatically on her unlit pipe.
Blaine nearly fell of his stool in laughter.
"I could tell you where they're at." A deep voice suddenly close to his ear nearly caused Blaine to jump and spill more whiskey.
"Why that's awful kind of you Mister." April peered around looking for, Blaine could only assume, bisexual clues.
The newcomer chuckled and jerked his thumb toward the dance floor.
April threw her arms up in victory.
"Thaks you jeez. whas yor name, kind surrr?"
"Uh, it's David."
"Thanks t'you David. I'mm a get on THAT."
April leaned over and gave Blaine a sloppy kiss on the temple and slurred
"I -lov you Blaine bu - nex time les go to a STRAIGHT-bar. this was 'lot of effort to gessum tail. I'm comin' BOYS"
And with that she walked bow-legged to the gaggle of men in full pink leather.
Blaine stared at David Karofky who, looked unrecognizable and happy in a full cowboy outfit, and nearly teared up from the blinding happiness he radiated. Here was a boy, who fucked up and saw all his low points and didn't let it affect his adult life. Blaine wanted that. He felt like he wanted to smile the way that Dave was smiling at him currently. More than anything he related to the precipice where Dave once stood. Except Dave was better than him. So much better.
"Hey," Blaine said softly.
Dave looked at him in some concern.
"Hi. It's Blaine right?"
"That's my name, and you're David." Blaine stretched his arms out on the bar letting his shirt ride up a little at the waist, not mistaking how David's eyes tracked the movement. Blaine looked up at him beneath lowered lashed hopefully.
David looked away
"Look, Blaine... Usually, I would ask a guy like you, who has been staring at me if you wanted to get outta here and do... whatever" Karofsky stopped talking and Blaine's heart gave a sad squeeze. Figured he wouldn't want Blaine either.
"But you seem like... super drunk right now." Karofsky laughed.
"I'm super not" Blaine protested.
"I would ask you to dance, but that's not gonna happen clearly."
Insulted, Blaine made to stand up but the room began spinning so wildly he tipped sideways onto Dave, who gingerly took him under his arms and perched him carefully back on his barstool.
"You can watch me dance," Dave smirked.
-
Dave half carried Blaine and April to his car, where they leaned against each other mumbling soppily to each other. David didn't know whether April had managed to find her underwear, which she insisted she had lost while crowd surfing, and he didn't suppose it was polite to push the issue. Blaine's clothing seemed thankfully intact. Intact but very revealing. Dave swallowed, glimpsing a flash of exposed collarbone and shook his head, as he handily eased Blaine into the backseat next to April.
The drive down to his home in Lima's north precinct was uneventful. His friend Chavez who was a neighbor of his, drove the car while he made sure Blaine and April didn't injure themselves too mortally. David wondered how Chavez could drive so well in full drag and heels but was thankful regardless.
"Thank you for helping out," Dave said in earnest.
Chavez- Or Charlamaine Chan as she preferred tonight, batted one heavily made-up eye at him.
"Your friends are mine, Dave."
Charlamaine tossed her wig into the glove compartment.
"Is this the kid you were hung up on in high school?" she said, unfastening one very dangly earring. "You seemed to have a ton to talk about."
Dave shook his head.
"No, he's not the kid I bullied," Dave said dryly.
Charlamaine adjusted the rear-view mirror and raised one beautifully penciled brow at him.
"Dang, he cute."
"He is cute, yeah"
Blaine stirred in the back, eyes still closed.
"Thank you."
Charlamaine made a disapproving sucking sound with her lips as David tittered and April mumbled.
"And what about yours truly, lady?! tasteless."
"All y'all better quiet down before I drive your drunk asses into a ditch."
-
Blaine couldn't see much other than the glare of a street lamp and Dave's hulking figure as he awoke in the backseat of a car in an unknown location.
He felt hands gripping him softly around his torso and a voice. A concerned voice.
"Come'on Anderson. You've got to sleep inside not here."
Blaine moaned, rubbing one eye sluggishly.
"C'mon, April's already inside. I've got spare PJ's"
"You're so good Dave, looking after us, but we gotta go. I've got class." Blaine mumbled.
"In two days, you mean." the firm line if Dave's mouth was visible even in the sparse light from outside the spacious garage.
"hha, sometimes I wish show choir practice was every day."
"Sounds like something you'd say."
Quietness settled over them as David absent-mindedly stroked a stray curl near Blaine's ear with his thumb.
Blaine leaned into the affectionate motion like a confused animal, staring at Dave with questioning eyes. He could feel fragile emotions begin to threaten and he felt a mess.
"Hey, hey hey it's fine. You're fine." Dave looked upset as he wiped a tear clear from Blaine's face.
Blaine sniffed and tried to clear his throat to apologize, or to thank Dave for his kindness. He had just drawn breath and gotten his thoughts into order when Dave, probably still thinking he needed comfort, pulled him into a hug.
It was an awkward angle; Blaine was still sitting in the back seat and Dave crouched in through the car door, but the hug was a warm blanket of comfort. Like a cup of soup on a thundery day. He could barely breathe as Dave's weight settled on him and all he could smell was the vague hint of worn away cologne and cigarette smoke.
Blaine's eyes were as wide as saucers as Dave pulled away from him.
Dave's whole body unclenched in relief. Blaine wasn't crying anymore.
Sensing the boy may be able to walk at a moderate pace, Dave took Blaine's hand in his and pulled him up and out of the car as Blaine stared at him. They stood in the lit doorway to the kitchen for a moment, hearing only cars driving by in the distance and the hum of fireflies.
Blain was tentative as he brought their entwined hands up to Dave's chest and took a step towards him, he didn't appear to know where to look as he buried his head in Dave's chest. All Dave could see was a mess of unkempt half-curls and minute shivering of Blaine's shoulders.
"Blaine wha-"
Blaine squeezed Dave's hand emphatically.
Dave placed one his other hand on Blaine's back in understanding, smoothing up and down the other man's back.
Blaine kissed him then under the roof of the open garage, very briefly, The barest contact of lips brushing together.
"Blaine. We can't."
Blaine gave a small squeeze to their joined hands.
"You-"
"Blaine, no I actually like you but we're so drunk?"
Blaine looked up at him then, eyes bleary and red-rimmed.
Charlamaine walked in at that moment, waving her heels over her head.
"Okay, Dave. You better get in there and babysit the blonde mama because she's trying to put bath salts in the washing machine. Figure it out."
-
Blaine woke up with less of a hangover than he thought possible with the amount he had drunk last night. Blinking his eyes open, he expected to be greeted by the familiar sight of his bedroom, but instead, he found himself in a spacious bed in an unfamiliar, even more, spacious room, with sunlight flooding in from all sides from tall bay windows. The windows were open and the opaque drapes fluttered wildly in the morning breeze. Above him hung a mobile of model aircrafts.
Shivering, Blaine realized he was shirtless. He drew the sheets around him more firmly and burrowed into the deep pillows.
"Blaine?"
Dave Karofsky was standing at the door with a tray full of coffee and croissants.
Blaine shot up from the bed, suddenly self-conscious.
Dave set the tray aside and brought one hand to Blaine's face in concern.
"You look well. Must've been the gallon of water I made you drink before bed last night."
Blaine blushed a little at the insinuation.
"Yeah... er about last night? my shirt?"
"Nothing happened if that's what you're saying..." Dave winked.
Blaine nodded pensively. He could barely remember last night, other than executing a vague approximation of a line dance while wasted and Dave laughing at him. And a tall pretty drag queen driving him April and Dave back from the bar.
He drunk his coffee quietly. Said coffee tasted shockingly amazing. Even surpassing his Medium order at the Lima Bean.
Blaine surveyed Dave over his coffee mug. He was dressed in cute pinstriped pajamas and munching on a buttered crumpet, cross-legged at the foot of the ginormous bed. He looked- sweet and young and carefree in a way Blaine could vaguely remember noticing last night. And while sharing breakfast from the silver tray, Blaine felt something. He couldn't identify the feeling but It felt like picking up an instrument after a long time and having to tune it up so that it sounded right.